


Stripdown

by beyondthescenes



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Lemon, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24146284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyondthescenes/pseuds/beyondthescenes
Summary: Sakura and Sasuke go on an undercover mission at a gentlemen's club. She performs, and he watches.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura & Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke
Comments: 21
Kudos: 106





	Stripdown

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: No profit is being made from this work. All characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto.
> 
> Author’s Notes: Title taken from the name of one of my favorite MAC lipliners, Stripdown. Also, watch out for cameos of ladies from other series. Our city’s still on lockdown, so I finally have some time to write some fanstuff. Fluff, humor, PWP. I just wrote it for the SasuSaku sexytimes. ;)

Whoever said that female ninjas had it easier than the males, Sakura thought with gritted teeth, deserved a good Shannaro to the face.

Smoothing down her naughty-nurse costume in a self-conscious gesture, Haruno Sakura – kunoichi of the Leaf, medic of the Konoha Hospital, apprentice of the Godaime Hokage and currently, stripper of The Velvet Room – parted the heavy crimson stage curtains ever so slightly and peeked through the small sliver of space. Upon seeing the crowd of loud, eager men waiting outside and sitting expectantly on their plush seats, she drew back in a moment of panic and leaned against one of the mahogany panels supporting the curtains, taking in deep gulps of air to calm herself.

The clicking of several approaching heels made her spin around. As to be expected of a high-end gentlemen’s club, all the dancers were stunningly beautiful. And, surprisingly nice. They had to stick up for one another and have each other’s back, Sakura supposed, especially in this line of business. Almost a dozen pairs of sympathetic eyes were on her, the newest girl in the lineup.

“It’s going to be alright, Sakiko,” soothed Fuuko, a voluptuous girl with a purple bob and dressed in a schoolgirl uniform. Catering, perhaps, to those who had a fetish for the virgin-whore dichotomy. Sakura remembered to nod at the mention of her alias, which she selected for being close to her real name. It sounded similar enough to make her respond to her fake name when spoken.

Rei, a black-haired girl in a patent leather dominatrix ensemble, grinned at her. “Don’t worry about forgetting a step or missing the beat. They won’t even notice – they’re just here to see the goods.” The idea of showing off her said goods to a roomful of inebriated men – all the while dancing to a number of songs – made Sakura even more anxious, but she managed a weak smile in return.

Somewhat buoyed by their reassurances, Sakura plastered a wider smile on her face, hoping to look more confident than she felt. “Thank you all for being so kind to me,” she said. The gratitude was genuine. “And thank you for teaching me the basic routines.” She felt a pang of guilt for her charade.

“When I first did it, I froze for ten freaking seconds before I could remember my routine. The first time is always nerve-wracking.” Botan, a tall, cheerful girl dressed in a pink kimono, patted Sakura’s arm comfortingly.

Well. Pretending to be a nervous girl stripping for the first time didn’t require any acting at all.

Because this mission came with the added misfortune of doing it in full view of the man she’d been in love with for more than half her life.

Striptease lessons in kunoichi class didn’t count, because those were done within the comfort and familiarity of the Academy, or under the supervision of their female instructors.

Kunoichi – in addition to ninjutsu, taijutsu, genjutsu, weapons, and all other skills that comprised a nin’s general education – were trained in many more non-martial skills. In order to be prepared for a wide variety of undercover or infiltration missions particularly suited to females, they were required to learn many of the traditional arts – origami, ikebana, tea ceremonies, classical instruments, and the like.

In their final year of school, when they were older, kunoichi were taught the more “adult” feminine skills – exotic dancing, sensual massage, flirtation, the fine art of seduction. Lessons on the actual sexual pleasuring of their targets were optional.

In the dance classes, everyone present was female anyway – classmates and instructors – even though some of them had henge’d into men to make the training environment more realistic. And although, for their final exam, they headed to a local strip joint and performed for a real, paying audience, there was the immensely comforting thought of knowing her friends were supporting her backstage and that her teachers – Kurenai-sensei, Anko-sensei, and Shizune-senpai – were stationed at various posts inside the club.

One time in training, Ino had transformed into Sasuke ‘to get her motor running,’ as her blonde best friend so eloquently put it, and Sakura had gotten so rattled that she tripped and accidentally knocked one of Tenten’s hairbuns loose. In retaliation, Tenten henge’d into Shikamaru in the middle of the lapdance Ino was practicing on her; but instead of the fumbling mistakes she’d hoped from Ino, the mind specialist gave an even more passionate performance, making Tenten yell “Eww!” in Shikamaru’s voice and dissolving everyone into hysterical giggles.

Hinata, caught up in the light-hearted atmosphere, and in a rare display of mischief, changed into a flawless imitation of her cousin during Tenten’s turn and demanded, in pitch-perfect imperiousness, that she give him a private show in his quarters at the Hyuuga estate later that night, causing the normally-graceful weapons mistress to miss quite a few beats in her footwork. Sakura, nodding in conspiratorial agreement with a fuming Tenten and a cackling Ino, shifted into her blond teammate, flashing an especially winsome – and blush-inducing – smile at Hinata and rooting her to the spot with bright blue eyes. When “Naruto” boldly slipped a money bill into the sidestring of Hinata’s underwear, the Hyuuga heiress promptly passed out.

This time it was a whole other kind of situation. She was alone.

No, scratch that – she was worse than alone. She was with _him_. It would have been infinitely better to have gone solo on this mission rather than be paired up with Sasuke.

_Sasuke_.

She swore Tsunade had a sadistic streak a mile wide.

Why, oh why, did her mission partner have to be _him_ , of all people? Tsunade-shishou knew of her history with the dark-haired shinobi, knew how hard she’d tried to get over him, knew how many months it took for her to even _talk_ to him normally. And now, here she was, assigned to work with him in such close quarters. She knew a mission with him was bound to happen sooner or later, but she’d expected it to be some kind of group mission. She hadn’t expected a two-man mission as _partners_ , and she even more certainly hadn’t expected this kind of mission where she had to expose herself so thoroughly and where the potential for embarrassment and humiliation was dreadfully high.

She’d have preferred to be partnered with any of the other guys, whom she loved like brothers. Looking silly and embarrassing herself in front of them would be no big deal – she would just laugh it off, and she knew she’d be subjected to nothing more than good-natured ribbing (Naruto and Kiba), a shake of the head (Neji and Shino), carefree munching (Chouji), effusive reassurances about her undiminished youth (Lee), or a snore (Shikamaru).

She had long stopped fawning over Sasuke, like she used to in her younger years, the schoolgirl crush having faded away into a light, friendly demeanor that she carefully kept professional. Whenever Sakura would remember how she would act around him in their genin years, she would cringe in embarrassment, and resolved to treat him the same way as the other guys – a trusted and valued friend.

But still, with Sasuke, his opinion mattered. It always did. Being around him made her feel self-conscious, and his mere presence made her tingle with an awareness that, despite the passing of the years, had never really gone away.

Although successful in her behavior, the heart was much harder to control. He was her first love, after all. There would always be a special place in her heart for him, even if she didn’t show it the way she used to anymore.

They’d settled into an easy friendship, with mutual respect, tinged with a tension she couldn’t quite explain.

Sometimes she would catch him looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face. But then he would look away so quickly she would believe she was mistaken, or left to think that he was assessing her skill, or maybe lack thereof.

She’d wonder if he was the least bit attracted to her, then she’d scoff at the notion and quash her wishful thinking as quickly as it appeared.

\-------

The mission was simple and straightforward: a politician’s wife, wealthy in her own right and Tsunade-shishou’s friend, was tired of humiliation and wanted to put an end to her husband’s corrupt and philandering ways. She ordered the hit on her husband to make it look like a heart attack, even better while he was at the gentleman’s club he frequented.

Sakura was tasked to go undercover as one of the club’s performers, entertain him, then poison him with one of Shizune-senpai’s concoctions. Sasuke was the spotter and lookout, and would be situated inside the establishment as one of the club’s patrons.

“Are you up to it, Sakura?” Sasuke had asked quietly, hands in his pockets, when they had exited the Godaime’s office with their mission papers and the target’s dossier. She ignored the flutter in her stomach at the deep rumble of his voice. There was no trace of condescension in his tone. Just candid concern, she noticed, about whether she was comfortable enough to do what was required of her.

Sakura took a deep breath and nodded. “Hai, Sasuke-kun,” she said, telling herself just as much as she was telling him. “It should be an easy kill. I’ve done it before, and more than once.”

“I know, and I don’t doubt that you could.” The implied confidence in her skills made her flush with pleasure and pride. “I mean about the… removing-your-clothes part.” He stared straight ahead, but his throat bobbed with a slight swallow.

“Yeah, sure,” she said lightly. “Maybe all those dance classes will finally come in handy, then.” The thought of it did make her feel nervous, but she wasn’t about to admit it to Sasuke, not when he had complimented her – or as close as he could get to actually complimenting somebody – on her kunoichi skills.

He glanced sideways at the same time she did. His face remained impassive, but her breath caught at the expression in his eyes. Possessiveness?

The corner of his mouth lifted in a slight smirk. “See you Thursday, Sakura.”

\-------

Sakura fussed with the buttons on her outfit. She felt like the slightest movement would cause the buttons down her chest to pop open. The white one-piece nurse’s uniform was too tight, too small, too short. It clung to her obscenely, accentuating the swell of her breasts, the slimness of her waist, the flare of her hips. She spun around in front of the full-length studio mirror to the side. The hem rode up even higher, barely covering her ass.

The uniform was ridiculous. And, she hated to admit, ridiculously sexy.

Would the audience find her sexy? Would the target? _Would Sasuke?_

She felt her cheeks grow hot, imagining his eyes on her body. Imagining him seeing her as… more than a friend.

No! She needed to focus. She shook her head vigorously to clear it of any distracting thoughts. This was not the time for any of that.

She can’t – _won’t_ – mess this up. She was going to do her best and accomplish this mission and make it a success.

She thought of the other dancers, able to do this night in and night out.

She thought of Tsunade-shishou, confident in giving her this assignment.

She thought of her friends, cheering her on in training.

She thought of herself, how hard she’d worked and how far she’d come in terms of growth and improvement.

Sakura flashed a cheeky grin at her reflection, her confidence finally real this time.

Squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin, she followed the rest of the girls backstage to find their places and get ready for the show.


End file.
